Behind the Masks
by smaugwithablog
Summary: After losing the only people who ever loved him, Erik finds a new and unexpected opportunity for love. Tells the untold story of Operetta's mother and fills the gap of events between "Love Never Dies" and Operetta's first appearance on "Monster High".
1. Letting Go

A/N: _This idea was actually conceived as a joke when my friend and I watched Phantom together then discovered the "Operetta" character from "Monster High". He was horrified that they messed with Phantom at all and we started talking about how inaccurate everything was, so I jokingly made up a short head canon about Operetta's origins that explained how Operetta could exist in the POTO world. Later I realized that my head canon was pretty good (also a bit cheesy) and decided to expand my ideas into a full crossover fan fiction, hence this which you are about to read! I honestly don't know how many people will read this or if anyone will discover it at all, but if you're reading this right now, I really hope you enjoy it. Much research and Phantom watching was put into this! :)_

Erik knelt on the ground and gently placed a rose on the grave of his son, Gustave. He stood and brushed the dirt off of his knees. Gustave was buried next to his mother, the beautiful Christine Daaé.

Erik stood here in front of the only two people he had ever truly loved in his miserable existence. He lost his precious son a year ago today. He had only been a father to him for three years, and he was already gone. Shortly after his mother's untimely death and coming to live with his father whom he had only just met, Gustave acquired polio. He got over the disease but it left him in poor health; he died at the unripe age of thirteen.

Standing in front of his loved ones' graves, Erik began to weep. Due to his horrendous face, he never thought he would have a woman who could love him, much less one that would bear his child.

In one swift motion, Erik turned around and headed back to his opera house, his cloak billowing behind him.

Erik returned to his home underneath the Manhattan Opera House. It wasn't quite as elaborate and exquisite as his previous home under the Opera Pouplaire, but it was sufficient. It at least had an organ to play when he got bored. There was no subterranean lake either, unfortunately, but it did get a bit damp sometimes, being underground and all.

After the death of his son, Erik rarely surfaced to the opera house above. He hadn't seen a single opera or show for a year. They only reminded him of Christine and caused him more grief.

He reluctantly decided it was finally time for him to let go of them and put his mind at peace. He grabbed the only mirror that he owned, a small handheld one that belonged to Christine, and looked at himself. Mask in place, good half of his face clean and shaved, hair slicked back as usual. The fire that used to be in his eyes was dulled, though.

Sighing, he set the mirror down on his dresser. Erik hated looking at himself; it just reminded him of the true monster he used to be. In honor of Christine and Gustave, he tried to be a better man. He hadn't even murdered a single person at this opera house. But seeing his face in the mirror reminded him of all the terrible things he'd done. "Perhaps if I hadn't been so monstrous, Christine could have loved me at first and she'd still be alive today..." he thought. He sighed another great sigh.

Erik then left his chambers to surface for the first time in seemingly forever. "So the Phantom of the Opera returns..." he thought to himself with a small smile.


	2. The Masked Woman

Upon arriving to his usual seat, Erik found that someone was sitting in Box Five. In anger, the thought of pushing this shadowy stranger over the railing occurred to him, but he calmed himself down when he realized that this stranger was a woman. That would be rather ungentlemanly of him to shove a lady, wouldn't it?

From behind he could see that the woman wore a black long sleeved dress with leather gloves and a black lace veil over her ginger corkscrew curls.

Erik placed an icy hand on this woman's shoulder and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Madame..."

The woman's head slowly turned and looked up at him. He was momentarily shocked to see that the woman wore a mask as well. Her mask, however, covered her whole face. It was porcelain with gold plating on the lips and around the eyes. Various musical symbols carressed her cheekbones and above her eyebrows.

The woman's bold grey eyes seemed almost to penetrate his soul. But there was also something familiar about them... He found himself at a loss for words when he tried to speak, so he simply removed his hand from her shoulder and left.

The only empty box seat left was Box Ten, which just happened to be almost directly across from Box Five, but he sat there anyway.

As the curtains on stage began to rise, Erik peered across the opera house into Box Five only to see the mask staring right back at him. He quickly pressed himself flat against his chair and fixed his eyes on the opera which had begun, heart pounding.

Knowing the peculiar woman was there across from him, it was hard for Erik to concentrate on the performance. He sat through the whole opera in the same position, eyes straight ahead until the end. He didn't even move during intermission.

When the curtains finally went back down, Erik raced out of Box Ten to try to find the mysterious woman. When he got to Box Five, though, it was empty. He looked over the railing and tried to spot her in the leaving crowd, but it all just looked like a big blur and he was definitely not about to go near all of those people to search for her.

Discouraged, he sank back into the shadows, slipping through a secret exit behind a tapestry on the wall that lead to his underground opera haven.

Erik made a vow to himself that night that he would find the Masked Lady and find out her identity no matter what.


	3. A Chance

The next night, Erik again returned to the opera house above. He found that the strange woman was sitting in Box Five again. But this time he sat down right next to her rather than run away.

The woman didn't so much as glance in his direction when he sat. She wore a black dress again; it was rather posh and reminded him of Madame Giry. Repulse filled him at the thought of her, and especially of her daughter after she attempted to murder his son then fatally shot Christine.

Erik cleared his throat. "Lovely evening isn't it, Madame?" he said in English.

She stayed completely still but said "Why are you sitting here attempting to make small talk with me?"

He was surprised but slightly pleased when she spoke to him in French. He was much more comfortable speaking French. "Why are you sitting in my box?" he asked in return, in French this time.

"Your box?" she scoffed. "As far as I remember, no one has occupied this box since the opera house was sold last year."

Erik did vaguely remember the opera house being sold to a new company while he was moping about underground for a year. "Well it's still my box, new company or not, so I shall sit here if I please."

The woman finally looked at him. "Why are you wearing that mask?" Her piercing grey eyes were harshly inquisitive.

Erik chuckled softly. "I could ask you the same question, Madame."

"My name is Émilie and I'm not a married old crone yet, so if you could please stop calling me Madame," she snapped.

"My apologies, Mademoiselle Émilie. I'm Erik."

"A pleasure to meet you," she said flatly.

"Likewise," he murmured.

The lights began to dim and the curtains rose onstage. Silence fell between the two masked people as the show began. Neither moved or spoke at all until intermission.

During intermission they both sat in awkward silence for several minutes, not going anywhere or saying anything and it made Erik slightly uncomfortable with this Émilie woman.

He attempted to pick conversation back up. "So where are you from?"

"France."

"Well I assumed that much, considering we're speaking French," he said, a bit irritated.

"Orléans," she finally replied hesitantly.

"I'm from Paris."

They sat for a few moments in silence. He began to ask another question. "So-"

"I really don't like thinking, much less talking about my past," she interrupted.

Erik grimaced. "Well that's something we have in common, then."

Émilie turned towards him. Her grey eyes pierced his yet again. "You're a very odd man, Erik."

He smirked. "You're a very odd woman, Émilie. I guess that's another thing we have in common."

The lights began to dim, cuing the end of intermission, and they fell silent once more.

Erik found it difficult to focus on the show for the remainder of it. He could only think about the woman sitting next to him. "Those grey eyes seem so familiar... who is she? And why does she hide her face behind that mask? Surely she can't be as hideous as me..." He felt a desire to see her face; his curiosity was driving him mad.

He felt his hand slowly rising towards her porcelain mask but stopped himself. That would be rather rude of him, and he knew from personal experience that people who wear masks typically don't like to be forcibly unmasked in public.

He could see her flash a scrutinizing glance at him out of the corner of his eye so he made no further attempt after that.

It seemed like the opera would never end, but at last the curtains fell back down and the lights came back on. Émilie rose from her seat and turned to leave without so much as a goodbye. As she was leaving, Erik stood and grabbed her gloved hand. "Wait!"

She stopped. "What?"

"I," he mumbled, "um, well..."

"Oh, get on with it," she snapped.

He just needed to keep her long enough to be able to get her mask off. He wouldn't be able to rest until his curiosity was sated.

"Would you... would you like to... go eat dinner or... something?" he finally managed to say.

Émilie's eyes looked surprised. "Are you asking to take me on a date?"

"Yes... I mean no! I-"

He was interrupted by Émilie's laughter. It was a bright, tinkly laughter that reminded him of Christmas bells. He suddenly felt very embarrassed. "Maybe if I kidnap her..." went through his head.

"Well that's something I don't hear everyday," she said, sounding amused.

"So you would like to... to stay with me?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh no, I really should be getting on home."

"Please! Just... just give me a chance." He was getting desperate.

Émilie sighed. "Well... I suppose an hour or two won't hurt..."

Erik grinned out of joy for the first time in a while. He extended his arm for her to take. "Shall we be off then?"


End file.
